


ask me to stay

by haipollai



Category: Captain America
Genre: Accidental Marriage, M/M, Morning After, What happens in Vegas does not always stay there
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-02
Updated: 2013-05-02
Packaged: 2017-12-10 05:31:17
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,217
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/782362
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/haipollai/pseuds/haipollai
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He feels the bed shift as Steve moves, and a hand touches his cheek. They've been playing with this, soft touches and nervous kisses. But they're still figuring out the lines between partners and lovers.  "You look like shit."</p>
<p>"Thanks. Now fuck off unless you can superhero up some ibuprofen."</p>
            </blockquote>





	ask me to stay

**Author's Note:**

  * For [beardsley](https://archiveofourown.org/users/beardsley/gifts).



Sam wakes up with a pounding headache, and no idea how he got there. There's a face smushed against his back and a hard over his waist, but he's clothed. Its a little reassuring, but not much. Trying to think through the headache isn't working so he gives in and rolls onto his stomach so he can look over at whoever is in bed with him with minimal effort.

"Steve?"

Steve's eyes shoot open and for a second he just looks back, neither knowing what to say. "What are you doing in my bed?" He finally asks.

"Your…" Sam realizes that Steve is right, he's on the wrong side of the room.

"Did we?"

"Doesn't feel like it."

Steve groans and presses his face deeper into the pillow. "I blacked out. What the hell did I drink?"

"Everclear. I think you stole it." Sam closes his eyes, if he's just in bed with Steve at least he doesn't need to worry about moving. "Or I stole it. Not really sure."

He feels the bed shift as Steve moves, and a hand touches his cheek. They've been playing with this, soft touches and nervous kisses. But they're still figuring out the lines between partners and lovers. "You look like shit."

"Thanks. Now fuck off unless you can superhero up some ibuprofen."

Steve's lips touch his temple before he carefully gets off the bed. Sam can't help but smile at how he tries to jar him as little as possible. He pulls another pillow up to sandwich his head between them and just drown out everything for awhile. No more tequila, especially not when he's with Steve.

"Hey, Sam?" Steve touches his back and Sam grunts in response. "Um. I think- I found some painkillers." Sam carefully props himself up on an elbow. There's something in Steve's voice he can't read and it's making him nervous. The way Steve's worrying his lower lip doesn't help but Sam takes the pills and water and quickly swallows it.

"What?" He says, fixing Steve with a stern look. It's easy to forget Steve's not that old sometimes until he hunches over and acts like he's still the shrimp he used to be. "Don't puppy dog eye me, Rogers."

"Do- What- I-" He suddenly shoves a piece of paper at Sam and Sam notices a ring on Steve's finger, a ring he's never seen before. He ignores it for now until he looks at the paper and then back up at Steve. "What did we do last night?" Steve twists the ring and now Sam can't look anywhere else.

"You're the one with the super soldier metabolism."

"I guess we figured out my limits?" He sits down heavily on the edge of the bed and Sam gratefully lies back down, curling around the pillow and watching Steve silently. He's not sure why he's not freaking out like Steve seems to be, maybe the hangover is just making feeling anything too much hard. But it's not the worst thing that could happen.

"We could annul it. Shouldn't be hard, celebrities do it all the time," Sam suggests, trying to keep his voice neutral.

"Do you want that?" Steve asks.

Sam looks down at his own hands, noticing he has the same ring Steve does. It's some cheap thing, not real gold but painted to look it. "I don't know. It's…"

"Yea."

"We just became a cliche, didn't we?" He groans, flopping onto his back and staring up at the ceiling. It's white, less stimulus for his brain to have to process.

"Getting drunk married in Vegas? Yea, I think that's a cliche." Steve stretches slowly out beside him and Sam tugs him over so his head rests next to his on the pillow, each breath ghosting over his cheek. "Bucky's going to kill me," he murmurs. "Promised him he would be my best man if I ever tied the knot."

"We can do one of those vow renewal ceremony things that white people love. Get him a tux and everything."

Steve doesn't say anything and Sam starts to think maybe the conversation is over. He wonders if he'll be able to go back to sleep. "Does this mean you don't want to annul it?" Steve suddenly whispers.

"Guess not. We can wait till after the sex." He turns his head to touch his lips to Steve's. "Can't believe we haven't even had sex yet."

Steve smiles against his lips. "Sorry, that's probably my fault."

"Hell yea it is, Mr. Let's Do This Right, or whatever your bullshit excuse was." Steve kisses him again, he knows Sam isn't that torn up about it. They'd agreed to go slow, figure out all those lines to make sure Captain America and the Falcon weren't compromised.

Steve's smile turns into a soft chuckle and he relaxes, fitting himself against Sam's side. "Well, I guess since we got married last night, I guess we're technically on our honeymoon."

"You're going to have to wait until this headache goes away. And maybe we get some breakfast." He holds up his hand, looking at the ring. Even though it's cheap, it still catches the light leaking through the blinds, reflecting it dully. "Real rings."

"Don't remember you being so high maintenance before." Steve teases, reaching up to take Sam's hand in his.

"Yea well, you better not back out on me now."

Steve is flushed when he kisses Sam's palm. "Wouldn't dream of it. Should we- We should tell Sharon at least."

Sam uses Steve's grip to tug him over and on top of him and pulls him down for a slow, lazy kiss. "Can wait. Gotta figured out this married thing first." Steve sighs softly in what Sam assumes is agreement, because he's leaning back in to kiss Sam again. Nothing has really changed, despite the cheap rings and the piece of paper beside them.

"So does this mean you'll finally move in with me?" 

"Just don't expect me to be a housewife."

Steve beams and Sam feels something open and ease in his stomach. It's rare to see Steve look so relaxed, like everything is actually working out as it should. "Don't worry, I can be the wife."

Sam rolls his eyes and tugs Steve back down to return to kissing. "Or you can just be Steve. That's all I want."

"I can do that. Just as long as you stay you."

"Deal." Sam kisses him again, and tries not to think 'to seal the deal' and hates himself a little for it sneaking into his thoughts anyway. "Oh and if you're lying about blacking out last night, I will let Redwing think you forced me into this."

"You know I'm the worst liar in the world," he says against Sam's skin, trailing kisses over his neck. "Even when you're hungover. And the empty bottle of Everclear is in the trash. Breakfast?"

Sam nods carefully, testing his head, but the worst of the hangover seems to have passed though the steady ache is still there. He can manage with that.

Dressing takes a long time, Steve wants to steal quick kisses and Sam doesn't want him to stop, but there are promises to keep, and if this is going to be their honeymoon, Sam wants to take full advantage.

**Author's Note:**

> This was an accident, beardsley is a butt.


End file.
